


The Hangover

by russianmango



Series: Mike and Nicky [4]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Washington Capitals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-11
Updated: 2012-05-11
Packaged: 2017-11-05 04:24:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/russianmango/pseuds/russianmango
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nicklas has a rough morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hangover

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a Mike/Nicky series I'm working on. They're not really in any order or timeline so they can be read as one-shot fics. Enjoy!

"Kill me!" Nicklas groaned from his curled up position on Mike's bed.

"Nicky, baby, don't talk like that," Mike consoled. 

"My fucking head, you don't understand," Nicklas cried again.

Mike held back a laugh as he reached into his dresser and pulled out a bottle of water and some aspirin. "Here you go, little one," Mike said. Nicklas looked up at him, squinting his eyes as his hand reached to take the pills before shoving his head back into the pillow. "Should still kill me," he muttered.

"What fun would that be? You'd be letting Alex win," Mike smiled as Nicklas groaned at the reminder of where this headache came from. Mike started running his fingers along Nicklas' side. He wasn't sure if it was comforting him or not, but he didn't seem put off by it.

“I think I have the flu,” Nicklas stated after a couple minutes of silence. “I’m serious, this isn’t normal. I never get hangovers, Mike.”

“Normally I’d agree with you, but you tried to show up Alex. I’d be worried if you didn’t have a hangover. In fact, we should probably get you on some liver-repair drug while we’re at it.”

“Why are you making fun of me? I’m sick you asshole!” Nicklas wined. “I feel like I’m going to throw up, even. Not just a headache. Will you comfort me then?”

“Probably not. I’m a shitty boyfriend, Nicky. I thought you knew that already. I let my boyfriends drink themselves stupid, trying to out-drink alcoholic Russians just so I can have sloppy, uncoordinated dancing with them and look like a hero in the morning,” Mike answered. Nicklas just groaned and rolled over. It’s possible he muttered something in Swedish, but Mike was choosing to ignore that.

A few minutes later, Mike got up and went to the kitchen to find something for Nicklas. After failing to find any food that seemed appetizing, he settled for making a red eye.

"The fuck is that?" Nicklas groaned again, cringing.

"Hangover medicine," Mike beamed. "Trust me, works like a charm."

"What's in it?" Nicklas braved the question.

"Clamato juice, beer-" Mike was cut off by Nicklas' gagging sounds. "Listen, just drink it."

Twenty minutes later, Nicklas finished the red eye and he admittedly felt a little better. "So, tomato juice and beer?" he asked.

"Clamato, beer, and raw egg- you didn't let me finish before," Mike corrected. 

Nicklas stared at the cup before running off to the bathroom, apparently not agreeing with the egg. "Are you trying to kill me?"

“It’s fine, Nicky. You drink Brooks' shakes all the time, they usually have two raw eggs," Mike rolled his eyes. More throwing up and it was clear he never asked what Brooks put in his wonderful shakes after all. 

“I find it kind of concerning you’re willing to trust Brooks over me,” Mike said. "When you're done throwing up, do you want to lay in bed and cuddle all day?" Mike asked softly, joining Nicklas in the bathroom. 

Nicklas gargled mouthwash before nodding. "Sounds awesome," he answered with a small smile.


End file.
